


Run it up the flagpole

by Thestarontheleft



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: #alternate universe, #fall out boy, #high school, #peterick, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4410287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thestarontheleft/pseuds/Thestarontheleft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick and Pete have been together for a long time. Set in alternate universe, high school, Pete has depression and gets bullied and Patrick's shy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A boulder at my window

Tap. Tap. I open my eyes. Tap. Groaning, I roll over to look at my alarm. Its ten in the morning, and light is filtering through my blinds and managing to spill directly onto my face. As I'm not entirely sure what woke me up, I bury my face in my pillow and allow my eyelids to fall shut before I hear it again. TAP.  
"What the hell?" I mutter - it's definitely not raining. I almost shout down to mum when TAP happens again. I jump out of my bed, shove open my blinds and wind the window open, because now it sounds like someone is throwing a fucking boulder at my house. My short burst of annoyance quickly deflates as I see a short, light haired figure below waving, and I grin as I climb out of my window and onto the ledge outside.  
"What are you doing?" I half yell at Patrick, who by this time has half - climbed up the tree that is right next to my house (conveniently, because it means Patrick can come up without my parents noticing). As he reaches the top I reach out a hand and help pull him up the final branch and into my window, where we both fall into a giggling (and in Patrick's case, sweaty) heap. We untangle ourselves and I pull myself into leaning on my pillows, facing a sheepish Patrick at the other end of my bed.  
"Sorry", he says, "but it's our last weekend before school starts, we should relish in our freedom before it's too late!". I roll my eyes, but kiss him quickly on his head before I get up to pull some jeans and a top on.  
"So you decided the best way to do that was to throw a brick at my window?" Patrick shrugs. "I saw it in a movie" he whines, giving me a puppydog expression that is impossible to resist. I rugby tackle him into my bed, and push him up so our heads are at equal heights.  
"It was really cute, 'Trick" I whisper right into his ear, and I bring my lips to his just as my door slams open.  
"PETE WENTZ, IT IS..." my mum's shout dies in her throat as she is confronted with a crimson Patrick who is half invisible under me.  
"When did you come over Patrick?" my mum asks, completely oblivious to the fact I am giving her serious "get out of my room" eyes, and as I look at Patrick I already see the eagerness leaving his face.  
"About half an hour ago" I say, shifting my weight so that Patrick can breathe again. He moves out from under me, putting me in between mum and himself. "Oh, ok, come down when you're ready" she says smiling, and leaves. As soon as she shuts the door I roll over to face Patrick behind me, who's hair is blowing all over his eyes from the wind coming through the open window behind him. He burrows into the bed, and I sigh.  
"You know my mum's cool with us, right?"& I say, cuddling up next to him. Patrick just nods. "Come on, what did you come get me for?" I ask, trying to cheer him up. Patrick wrestles with the pockets of his jeans before pulling out a crumpled flyer and handing it too me.  
"It's a carnival" he mutters.  
"What, with fairy floss and a hall of mirrors and stuff?" I probe. Patrick nods again, looking at me apprehensively. I squeeze his hand. "Sounds great" I say."Let me grab some shoes and we'll go, ok?" Patrick breaks into a smile as he realises I'm not going to make fun of him for such a soppy idea, and for that face, the decision was totally worth it.


	2. Cotton candy

Patrick's POV

I told Pete I’d wait in my car outside while he grabbed a piece of toast and told his mum what he was doing; I loved Pete but I wasn't hugely comfortable with people I didn’t really know, and Pete’s mum was one of them. I started the car as Pete jogged out of the gate and opened the car door.  
“Let’s go to a carnival!” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air. I roll my eyes and hit the gas.   
“You nervous about school?” I ask as I drive. Pete’s eyes flicker, but he shrugs.  
“I’m sure it’ll be fine” he says a little too quickly, so I let the subject go. I’ve got happy Pete for the moment, and I want to keep him for a bit. We pull up next to a park that’s been converted into a million stalls with different games at each one, with a massive Ferris wheel overlooking the river on the edge. Pete chuckles.  
“I seriously cannot believe I’m about to take you to get cotton candy”.  
I pull him out of the car.   
“It’ll be fun” I say “come on, let’s go on the bouncy castle”.

Pete’s POV  
As Patrick drags me over to the entrance of the park, the music hits me. It’s that aggravatingly tinny, twinkly sound that’s repeated every ten minutes, and I wonder what the hell I’m doing here. But then I look at Patrick’s face, with his eyes smiling and for once he’s not wearing a hat, which really doesn’t happen often because he’s too self- conscious about his hair. So I think about how little he goes out in public and even then it’s usually only with me, so I decide to stick it out and be a good boyfriend.   
“Wait here” I tell Patrick, and I run off, leaving Patrick looking a bit lost for about a millisecond before I reappear with a giant mound of cotton candy on a stick. He laughs, grabs some and stuffs it into his mouth before holding it out to me. I shake my head. Considering the amount of sugar I’d just seen go into the tub to mix it, I was good.  
“All yours, ‘Trick”. He rolls his eyes at me before wolfing down the rest.   
“What now?” I ask him, but as I glance at him again he appears a bit smaller, like he’s trying to curl into himself. His eyes are darting around and he looks nervous.  
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I say softly, pulling him in between one of the marquees and into the shadows before scanning the crowd. I realise the problem. Mixed in with the random passer-by are kids our age from school. None of them have noticed us yet, and from Patrick’s pale face I can tell he doesn’t want them to either. I look quickly to check they aren’t there, then I shake my head. I don’t think they’d show up at the local fairground anyway. Cursing myself for not thinking about this issue ahead of time, I push Patrick back into the marquee so no one could see us at all. Patrick squeaks as I pull myself closer to him.  
“Not here” he hisses, blushing bright red. I don’t stop though, because I know exactly how to cheer Patrick up. As I pull my fingers through his hair, I whisper  
“you know it doesn’t matter, ok? I love you, and no one else at our school has any right to judge you. You’re the best boyfriend, you threw rocks at my window for fucks sake, and I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
“Really?” Patrick says, and even though I can’t see his face I can hear his smile returning.   
“Really” I murmur, before tilting his head and kissing him lightly. Patrick responds and I kiss him enthusiastically for a minute before I break off.  
“Besides” I say “no one at school can compete with your ass” and then I make a grab for his bum. Like I’d hoped, Patrick cracks up before pulling us out into the sunshine, away from the protection of the tent.   
“Come on” he says, his smile bigger than ever now. “Let’s go do that game with the water pistols”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sort of a filler chapter. Next one has some actual plot, promise!


	3. My fault - Your bruises

Pete's POV

The game with the water pistols consists of Patrick and I seeing who can fill up a balloon the fastest by pointing the gun at a target. However, like all the other couples at the stall, we quickly realise the game is way more fun if we just have a water fight. Patrick aims for my head and gets a good blast in before I take aim and get in a shot at his body. I leave the stall with my hair and face soaked, and Patrick is so wet his t-shirt is see - through.   
“Look!” I crow “I won you a prize” I say, mock bowing as I hand Patrick the toy duck I won for winning the competition. He nods, but is suddenly more preoccupied with the realisation he is walking around holding hands with me with a soaking shirt and the possibility of half our year seeing us. He pulls at his top uncomfortably and looks around nervously. Quickly, before he gets any more unhappy, I pull my relatively dry t-shirt over my head and hand it to him. He stares at me, before giving me a fleeting smile that quickly disappears beneath his wet shirt as he pulls it off. When his face appears again, he raises his eyebrows at me while staring pointedly at my chest. I grin.  
“You love it, your boyfriend walking next to you shirtless” I say, Patrick chuckles and grabs my hand.  
“The sun’s setting” he says “go on the Ferris wheel with me and watch the sunset?”  
“ok” I say “but I want a hot dog first”.  
While we wait to our hot dogs the man behind the counter seems really pissed off. He’s shouting at the boy cooking behind him, and snarling at the customers when they ask for ketchup.  
“Hey, why don’t you go get in line for the Ferris wheel while I get us sausages?” I suggest to Patrick just as we make it to the front of the line. I really could not deal with this idiot having a go at Patrick. He smiles and squeezes my hand before letting go and walking towards the queue nearby. I watch him go before turning around to order the hotdogs, only to find the man behind the counter about two inches from my face.  
“What…” I say, taking a step back into the person behind me. The man scowls at me.   
“That your boyfriend who just left?” he asks contemptuously. I sigh. I had been hoping this wouldn’t happen today.   
“Yeah, we’re big, gay lovers. Can I have a hotdog now?” I say, my voice just as mocking as his. Someone in the line me laughs. The man’s eyes bulge at me and for a second I think he’s going to punch me before his son intercedes.  
“Calm down dad, I’m not taking you to the hospital again” he says just as he turns around. “What’s up?”. Then I see his face. Shit. I take another step back.  
“You know what, forget it. I really don’t want a hot dog” I say as I back away.  
“You sure?” the boy grins as he hands the tongs to his dad before throwing himself around the counter. Taking that as my cue I dive into the crowd, running as fast as I can. This is the only time being short is kinda useful. I can hear him shouting behind me, so I duck into the group standing next to me. They give me a few strange glances but I’m more preoccupied with what with happen if that kid finds me. The last time I had an encounter with Morris I ended up with a broken nose and a few stitches, and I am not doing that again. Before he spots me I weave into the Ferris wheel queue to look for Patrick. He’s right at the front of the line, I can see his hair as he turns his head to look for me.  
“Oh, hey” he says “I was beginning to think I’d lost you”  
“Yeah, no chance” I say, before hustling Patrick onto the chair waiting for us. As the chair lifts off the ground, Patrick blinks confusedly.  
“Weren’t you meant to have hot dogs?”  
“Um… the guy burnt half of them so I thought it’d be a waste of money” I say quickly. He shrugs before leaning his head on my shoulder.  
“That’s ok” he says “at least I’ve got you”. I smile. It was very pretty up in the air, where no one could hurt us. The sun was dipping behind the city skyline, shining orange on Patrick’s face and hair. I pull him closer and he nestles in between my shoulder and neck.  
“You should dye your hair orange, it’d suit you” I joke. He swats at my hand  
“Yeah, and you should dye yours pink”. He traces the ring of thorns tattooed around my neck.  
“Pretty pretty Petey, all dressed in pink”. I smile contentedly. Up in the with Patrick, it feels like nothing can go wrong. We stare at the horizon for a bit, then the chair begins to move downwards, and as the chair reaches the bottom Patrick pulls away from me, leaving only our fingers intertwined. As we step off, I realise the sun has well and truly set, leaving me shivering in the wind. As I look around, I can’t see anyone; I guess everyone else felt the cold and left too.   
“Back to the car?” I suggest, and Patrick nods easily. We begin walking in the direction of the streetlamps, when I trip over my own feet and realise my shoelaces are undone.  
“Hang on” I tell Patrick, and crouch down, quickly tying them up. When I stand up again, Patrick’s gone.  
“Patrick?” I call out. Not funny. He knows I don’t deal very well with darkness. “Come on, I want to go home.” The wind shifts, and that’s when I hear it.  
“Pete! Pe..” Patrick’s second cry was abruptly cut off, and I start running towards where I thought his voice came from. As I get closer, I can hear some muffled yelps every so often, and as I round the corner I see a circle of tents with Morris and two mates holding him down, with one getting a kick in every few seconds. Morris sees me and grins, and motions to his cronies to step away from Patrick, who doesn’t move. He’s lying on the ground, blood’s formed around his mouth and he’s holding his stomach and whimpering.  
“What the hell did you do to him” I shout as I charge forward at Morris, who meets my rush with a fist, and then his mates are all around me, pushing until I fall over. I try to protect my head but one of them drives a foot into my stomach, making me groan as I double over and curl up. Then they all join in, and I don’t know where to move, what to protect. The last thing I see before I pass out is Patrick looking at me, trying to crawl, trying to tell me it will be alright. Then I black out.

Patrick’s POV

I wait until they’re done. I wait while they kick the life out of my boyfriend because I can't do anything I pretend I’m unconscious too, and when they’re finished with him they leave, laughing as they go. Bastards. I shakily stand up. My stomach’s killing me, but they didn’t do anything to my head so I think I’m ok. I move slowly towards Pete, who’s laying side on, curled into himself.  
“Pete” I mutter as I reach him. “Come on Pete, please wake up”. I lie him gently on his side, and pull his arms away from his head. His head lolls to one side, his fringe covering his eyes. I grab his head, supporting it, and pull his fringe back and stroke his face. “Come on, wake up, I love you, please wake up, Pete, please” I begin to cry as I pull his head into my lap, stroking his hair. I stay there for a few more minutes, waiting, until Pete begins to stir. He opens his eye and looks up at me.  
“Hey” I say softly. Pete groans, his hands moving to his sides.  
“It hurts, ‘Trick” he says quietly.  
“I know” I say “I know, Pete. Do you think you can walk?” Pete’s silent for a bit, then he nods in my lap. I shakily stand up, pulling him up with me and looping an arm around my shoulders. As he walks next to me he doesn’t say anything, and I have to keep checking he’s awake. When we reach the road a streetlamp illuminates Pete’s bare stomach, and I inwardly flinch as I already see a mess of bruises forming. I unlock the car and he collapses into the passenger seat, staring off into nothing. I begin to drive, every so often glancing over at Pete to check he hasn’t fallen unconscious. As we reach Pete’s house I bring the car to a stop and stare at the door. I have no idea how I’m going to try and take Pete upstairs without his parents noticing, but then I have a bad feeling Pete’s mum is probably used to Pete getting beaten up. I look at Pete, and he’s still just sitting there staring outside. His head is leaning on the window, and his knees are pulled up to his chin. I leave him in the car and go to ring Pete’s doorbell. When his mum answers, she pulls open the door ready to have a go at Pete for being back so late, but she is faced with me.  
“Patrick, oh my god!” she cries “Quick, Peter come here!”. Pete’s dad runs out, and supports me. “Where’s Pete?” he asks, and I point at the car. His mum runs out to the car, and Peter helps me walk into their living room where I collapse on the couch. He runs out to the car, and I see him pull Pete out before literally picking him up and taking him upstairs. Pete’s mum walks in and sees me on the couch.  
“Maybe you should stay the night” she says. “I’ll set up the spare bed in Pete’s room” she walks out again. I can’t wait though, and I fall asleep on the couch, only to be woken up by someone carrying me upstairs and putting me down in a bed on the floor. I see Pete’s silhouette in the bed next to me, and his hand’s fallen out and is hanging next to me. I give it a quick kiss.  
“ ’Night Pete” I murmur before going back to sleep.


	4. Morning nightmares

Pete’s POV

I open my eyes. Everything hurts; my stomach especially. I groan and pull myself into a sitting position, grabbing the glass of water Mum had helpfully left next to me. As I gulp it down I feel around for my phone. It’s 3:40 AM. Crap. I fall back against the pillows to try to go back to sleep when I notice a dark lump lying on the ground. I shine the dim light of my phone down, and surprise, it’s Patrick. As I look his chest moves up and down, and he’s managed to do the thing only Patrick can do, where he burrows himself into a sort of sideways caterpillar that only has the shock of blonde hair at the top to prove it’s him. Ignoring my stomach I reach out and pull my fingers through it. Patrick always wears a hat, and I never get to see him without it if he’s with other people. With me, though, he’ll take it off, and I’m always secretly proud of that. As my finger tugs on a knot in his hair, he mumbles in his sleep and turns to face me. I recoil. Half his hair has dirt all though it, and he has a hell of a black eye. Shit shit shit. This is completely my fault, if he wasn’t with me he wouldn’t be getting bullied. I stroke the side of his face, sketching marks where his bruise ends.   
“Sorry ’Trick” I whisper. I lean over the side of my bed and begin to untangle his hair, pulling the dirt from it, when Patrick stirs. He looks at me with one eye open.  
“Can’t sleep?” he mouths at me. I shake my head; Patrick knows me too well. “Shove over then” he murmurs, and I look confused before Patrick grunts and pulls himself up into my bed. He shuffles it around so that his head is lying on my chest, going up and down rhythmically with my breathing. He sighs in contentment and allows me to continue to pull the dirt out of his hair, and that’s where we stay until about 7am, when the light begins to filter through the blinds and I can go back to sleep.  
\---------------------

Patrick’s POV

A particularly loud snuffle from Pete causes me to fully wake up. He’s been doing it for the last hour, which I guess means he’s actually asleep for once, but I find it impossible to sleep next to him when he snores. Pete insists he doesn’t snore, but I’m lying next to him right now getting an earful of it. I chuckle as I come up with an idea; I slowly reach for my phone to take a video Pete, but as I flick the screen on there’s a notification. 12 missed calls, 9 text messages the phone reads. Crap. I completely forgot to tell my parents where I was. Not wanting to wake Pete up I crawl over him, aiming for the bathroom so I can call Mum. He doesn’t stir, and I hope he’ll be ok while I call. I reach the bathroom, and come face to face with what appears to be a mirror image of myself, except I look so different. My hair’s sticking up at crazy angles with dirt through it, and I have a massive black eye. I touch it tentatively – it’s tender, but not too bad. Leaving my reflection, I squat on the toilet seat and press call. It goes directly to voicemail – considering it was like 7:30 in the morning everyone was probably asleep.   
“Hi mum, sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m staying at Pete’s house, he got a bit beaten up but we’re fine, promise, don’t worry. No long lasting issues. Um, I’ll come over later today before school starts tomorrow? Ok, see you then. Bye.” I finish the call and go to lift the toilet seat up when Pete yells.  
“PATRICK! PATRICK!!???” I race into his room to see him awake, staring wide eyed at the ceiling and gasping for breath.  
“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I’m here” I say, trying to sooth him, grabbing his arm and pulling him into me. Pete relaxes slightly, but I can feel the tension in his body, and his hands are clenched into fists at his side. I sigh. “What was that, an hour of sleep?” Pete just groans.  
“Sorry” he whispers “you know I get nightmares”. I nod before realising he can’t see me.   
“Don’t feel bad. You can’t control your mind.” Pete chuckles dryly. His fists loosen slightly.   
“If only” he murmurs. I smile. Pete’s been having nightmares for years, but he won’t tell me what they’re about. He says he doesn’t want to scare me. I have a pretty good idea what they’re about, because Pete doesn’t just snore in his sleep, he tosses and turns and mutters. I can usually tell what’s bothering him just by holding him while he sleeps. At the moment I think it’s something to do with school. He won’t say it, but I can tell he dreads going back. He used to get beaten up almost every day; I would see his face purple more than I would its normal colour. I pull him even closer.   
“We’ll do it together, ok?” Pete pulls away from me, and stares at my face before dropping his gaze.  
“Sorry” he mumbles. I’m confused. He knows I don’t have a problem with his sleep habits. But then he brushes under my eye with his finger, and I remember what I saw in the bathroom mirror. I smile, and lean into Pete’s face, my lips touching his. I pull back, and look at him searchingly.  
“Not your fault, ok?” I check his expression. He doesn’t look convinced, but it always takes him a while to remember I’m not going to take off and leave. “I have to go home for a few hours” I say quietly. “I need to grab some stuff for school”. Pete nods absently, his fists now unclenched and drawing patterns and words on the back of my hand. I pull away. “See you later” I say. Pete pulls out his usual bravado with some effort, and blows me a kiss with a wink. I chuckle, and make for the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, this is my first time writing so don't be too harsh, but feel free to tell me what you think (compliments are ALWAYS accepted :) )


End file.
